They also compensate for small dicks. A revolver is my first choice for a back up, as it never jams, never mis-feeds, and never, ever hit you in the face.
You're a funny guy, Fred!
Actually, I did have a revolver hit me in the face once, true this.
When I was just a pup (college, about 21 or so) I went to my first ever bowling pin shoot, put on by the local tactical shooting club. I took what I had at the time, which amounted to exactly one K-frame 64-NY (a bead blasted 4-inch DAO NYPD surplus overrun; it was the coolest thing I could afford). Of course, I get there and there are all these older guys–some ex-military–with all manner of big autos, epecially 1911s, with wide mouth 200-230 grain hollowpoints for teaching those pins a lesson.
I was a little intimidated, to say the least.
I had exhibited the good sense to lay in a couple of boxes of the hottest thing I could find for my little wheely; some corbon 158g LSWCHP at definite +P+ loading–reportedly good for well over 1000fps out of a 4-inch 64.
So, my turn finally comes up, and I’m practically shaking; I figure for all the world that I’m going to look like (at best) the complete newbie dweeb and (at worst) like a total friggin’ idiot for bringing a .38 revolver to a pinfight.
The mark goes off and, doing my best to control my breathing (and not a very good job of it at that, I’d add), I concentrate on doing what I’ve been taught: high hand, crush grip, hunker down, front sight, press, etc… and I center punch the first pin. I mean dead center, and the pin goes straight back off the table as the corbon slug flattens like a pancake against the front of the pin’s poly coating, immediately expending almost all of its energy; but yet leaving just enough for the quarter-shaped hunk of lead to come straight back at me and hit me directly on the bridge of my nose, right under my rose-colored shooting glasses, cutting my pointy snout.
Whatever it was that I was expecting/imagining to go wrong that day–which was plenty–I certainly didn’t expect that! Adrenaline being what it was though, I shook it off and cleared the remaining 4 pins.
Now, lest some of you think this is inet BS, I will state for the record that none other than simply rugged’s Rob Leahy was standing next to me as RO at the time. At end of volley, he asked if I was OK, and then picked up the slug and handed it to me, telling me “that’s one for your medicine bag, right there.” I’m pretty sure that’s the moment I went from “that bothersome leftist college kid who comes into the store” to “that bothersome leftist college kid who can shoot”!
We always got along really well after that.